“Come on. Please!? You have to.”
“Why? It’s your family, not mine. I’m not even American.”
“It’s just a dinner. I’m inviting you to dinner. That’s all. It’s not like we sit around and talk about pilgrims and Plymouth Rock.”
“But why me? Why not Mark?”
“Because I want you there. What else you got going on? Anyway you said yourself, you wanted to meet my uncle. And my cousin, well you’ll just love him. He’s freaking funny as Hell.”
“Ughh…I just don’t know.”
“Ok. I have an idea. When we get off this bus, come inside with me. Help me make two of my special apple pies. If you can honestly say you don’t want a warm slice of this concoction tomorrow, then you don’t have to come.”
“I don’t like apple pie.”
My face couldn’t hide my obvious dejection, as I sadly mouthed “seriously?”
Kayla, reveling in her small victory, couldn’t hold onto her lie for very long. “No. Not seriously. I love apple pie. I will help you. I’m…umm intrigued.”
As we exited the bus on the cold Wednesday afternoon. I skipped happily through the swirling traces of snow, blanketing the sidewalk.
“You seem pretty confident in your pie there Mr. Jumpy.”
“Oh I am. It’s the best.”
As I fished out my key to the front door, Kayla made an unsuccessful attempt to weasel out of coming over for dinner, but still get a slice. She draped her hand along my waist and spoke into my ear “maybe I’ll get to try some after you make it?”
“Right. I’ll just serve a pie with a piece missing. Nice try though.”
That earned me a smack on my ass. I squealed.
We ran up to my room so I could change into proper cooking attire. Shorts and a t-shirt. It didn’t occur to me until after I was pacing around in just my underwear, that I had let go of all forms of shyness around Kayla.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting comfortable…for cooking.”
“What? Are you going to cook in the nude?”
“No. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Mmm…I’d be okay with that. I wouldn’t complain.”
“Whatever. I’m not the one walking around in my underwear.”
“You got me there. Care to join me?”
“What is this? Are we making apple pie…or something else?”
“You’re no fun” I said, as I pulled a pair of basketball shorts over my legs. I then threw a t-shirt over my head, and extended a hand to Kayla, to help her to her feet. I drew her into a hug and kissed her innocently on the lips.
“I love ya, ya know.”
“Love you too” she smiled back. Stealing one more kiss. This one a little longer. A little less innocent.
We got back down to the kitchen, and I put Kayla on apple peeling duty. We needed a dozen Granny Smiths to make the two pies.
While she did that, I prepared two mixtures of a 1/2 cup of sugar, 3 tbsp flour, 1 tsp cinnamon, and 1/8 tsp salt.
She and I both cored and sliced the apples almost see-through thin. It takes a lot longer to slice them so thin, but it’s worth it in the end.
We divided the apples and threw them into the sugary mixture. I pulled out two deep dish pie crusts from the freezer and we poured the coated apples into them.
Then we measured out 2 cups of brown sugar, 1 cup flour, 1 cup rolled oats, and 1 cup (room temperature) unsalted butter. We mixed all the ingredients and cut in the butter with a fork, until it forms into like balls of crumbled stuff. We scooped the crumb topping evenly over both pies.
“What next?” Kayla inquired.
“Well, we put 1/2 chopped pecans over one of them. The other one is pretty much done. We cover them with foil, and put them in the fridge. I’ll cook them after dinner tomorrow, and drizzle warm caramel on top after they come out.”
Kayla stepped in behind me, and draped her arms around my waist, her head on my shoulder. “These look amazing. What time is dinner tomorrow?”
“So you’ll come over?”
“I was planning to all along. It was just fun watching you beg.”
“It’s ok. Thanks for helping too. And thanks for coming tomorrow.”
Just then, Kayla slid one of her hands into my pocket. I gulped as she kissed the back of my neck and her hand started to explore the inside my pocket. I tried to turn my head to meet her mouth, right as her hand located my excitement. But as soon as our lips met, I heard the front door opening. In a panic, I leapt halfway across the kitchen. A moment later Kari stepped through the doorway. I’m certain I looked guilty of something, but the real tell, was the spike in my shorts. Kari kind of smirked, and casually went to Kayla to chat. It seemed like they were having a much bigger, secretive conversation than the words they shared revealed. Some crazy girl thing. I tried to busy myself with wrapping the pies and starting to clean up the kitchen. Anything I could do, to shield my uncooperative boy parts. Eventually Kari went upstairs, and Kayla came over to say goodbye.
“See ya tomorrow Daniel” she smiled, making sure to brush up against my little problem, as she kissed me on my cheek.
“See ya” was all I could manage to reply.
Needless to say, there was a certain level of frustration associated to Kayla’s little exhibition. My instincts told me to run to the nearest room with a lock and get down to business. My sensible mind told me no. It would be too obvious, and with my sister lurking around the house, it’d just be too creepy.
I settled on washing the pile of dishes in front of me. If anything can chase away an aroused state, it has to be housework. After cleaning the kitchen up to military spec, I ran upstairs to check on Rent Boy. Before I even read a single chapter, I remembered I was going to look at the two blogs written by them younger guys. I found the blog list, and clicked on a blog written by a 16 year old from the UK.
He pretty much wrote about his day to day life. School, music, crushes, and dealing with being a closeted gay. His writing was very entertaining and it was obvious he was a smart guy. I found that I could relate with him on many topics. I spent a good hour reading his posts, and I saw in his comments, that he was very good friends with the writer of the other blog I planned to look at tonight.
I linked my way to that other blog right after I came back upstairs from dinner. Kari made us a couple of sandwiches, as my mom needed just about every dish and pan we have, clean, for when she got home to start cooking for Thanksgiving.
This blog was written by a kid named AJ. It was a lot like the blog from the UK, but he is younger (14) and a little more crazy sounding. His writing was very exciting and it made you read fast, to try and keep up. Every one of his posts was very long and full of information.
I was immediately envious of him. His life as he explained it was like a perfect fantasy. He was an only child, living in a gigantic mansion in the mountains of a western state, with two loving parents. He had every kind of toy and electronic devise that any boy could dream of. He had great adventures and a perfect boyfriend to enjoy them with. They would ride horses in the mountains, go snowboarding, camping, and he would even share some of his intimate moments with his readers. And readers, wow! He had a large following of dedicated readers. They would all leave comments, and he would always kindly reply to them.
What stuck out most to me about AJ, was how genuinely nice he was. He didn’t let his piles of money and endless trail of opportunity, turn him into a stuck-up person. As different as his life was from mine, I didn’t feel like he would look down on me for it. I mean, I would say my family is right there in the middle class, and I’m not suffering, but aside from a hand-me-down laptop, and an ipod Nano, I don’t have much else. Hockey equipment, my parents buy, but if I want anything else, it’s either holidays, or save up for it.
AJ seems to get whatever he wants. His parents are filthy rich. The only rich kids I’ve ever known, are stuck-up and don’t have time for anybody that’s not rich like they are. AJ certainly didn’t fit that mold. He also seemed totally in touch with his gayness. Something I couldn’t say for myself. To be honest, I don’t know what in the Hell I am. Horny?
I desperately wanted to talk to all three of these guys. AJ more than the others. But I had no idea how, or what to say. The only thing that came to mind, was to ask AJ a question about music. He regularly posted YouTube videos on his blog. Boy bands. Lots and lots of them. I can’t stand boy bands, except for one. A German rock/rap band I found one day by accident. I think I was watching Linken Park videos, and this band was in the sidebar. I watched everything I could by them, and kind of developed a sort of little, kind of big, gigantic crush on the lead singer, Henry. Maybe that’s how I can see if AJ will talk to me. Maybe I can write a comment on his blog and ask him if he’s ever heard of Apollo 3? Well, not tonight…I have to think about this some more.
Instead, I went back to Rent Boy, and read a few more chapters about the budding relationship between James and my newest crush, Squeegy.